


The Monsters Come to Call

by carnelianBlood



Category: Original Work
Genre: (kind of), character-driven, ghost story, it's kind of a christmas carol- based, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnelianBlood/pseuds/carnelianBlood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl is spending the night in an abandoned warehouse on a dare. She gets some unexpected visitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Monsters Come to Call

Time seemed to slow, like honey dripping off a spoon, as I sat in the lonely warehouse. It seemed like I sat there for forever, roasting marshmallows, before I heard a sound, like metal _ting_ ing off crystal. I stood, quickly, and looked off into the darkness. I saw nothing for a few seconds.

Then _she_ appeared- at least I assumed it was a she- and I had to stop and stare. She was beautiful, clad all in white, with long and silky dark hair. There were two things that made her unique, though- that she had huge wings, like those of a bird, dusty light brown, and that she had no face.

And yet she spoke. "Do you have anything to spare for a lonely traveller?"

Her voice was high and musical. It made me stop and stutter for a moment until I could find my voice again.

"Y-yes. I mean, it's not much, but..." I handed her a fresh marshmallow, perfectly golden brown, and she seemed to consider for a moment before it vanished.

A second later, she did, too, and I was left to wonder about what had just happened. I looked at my watch- a minute to 10. When it struck over, I heard another sound, like a growl, and another visitor appeared.

This one was a kind of fox-man; I don't know how else to describe him. He stood on two legs like a normal person, but he had the face, paws, and fur of a black fox. He came forward, into the firelight, and as he did, I smelled a strange musk. It wasn't unpleasant, but something like that of forest creatures.

"Do you have anything to spare for a lonely traveller?"

I shivered at its voice, for it was that of a normal man, and he gave a yipping laugh as I held out a trembling hand with a marshmallow in it. His blunt claws scraped my palm as he took it, ate it, and abruptly dropped to all fours before dashing off into the dark.

The next creature came at eleven. It had the face and wings of a bird, but it was nothing like the first thing. Its legs and neck were that of a horse, and it smelled like something fetid and rotting. It hopped forward, cawing like a buzzard, and one black, beady eye stayed trained on me. 

"Do you have anything to spare for a lonely traveller?" it asked, in a voice like metal on metal. I flinched back, making it caw again with laugher, but it quieted when I held out some food. It pecked at my already-abused palm, once, before flapping its wings and nodding in approval.

Then it spread its wings and flew away, into the rafters, out of my little circle of firelight.

The last visitor came when my watch beeped midnight. It was massive, twice as tall as me and three times my width, with wiry black hair all over its body. The only exception were its insectlike arms, legs, and eyes. They were spider eyes, and in its six arms it carried three sacks that exuded a rotten order. It had a yellow aura that flowed like smoke off the thing's body and made me light-headed.

It moved towards me slowly and heavily, as if tired and weighed down by the bags. It finally settled on a bench across from me and sat for a while, impassive eyes flickering in the light of the flames. They were starting to die down, and I was starting to think about getting up for more wood before it spoke in a rumbling but gentle voice.

"Do you have anything to spare for a lonely traveller?"

Its voice was more exhausted than it had looked. It made me pity him. Wordlessly, I handed him the rest of my bag of marshmallows. In his hand they crumbled to dust, which he poured in the fire.

"Thank you," he said, "for your kindness to us all. Not many would do what you did." He stood and touched my forehead, as if in benediction, and since that day I have had a gleaming silver mark there. Afterwards, he withdrew and seemed to smile underneath all of that hair. He said, "May the sun always be at your back and the stars watch over you."

Then he departed, and I have not seen him since, except in dreams.


End file.
